


no blood on your hands

by InkStainsOnMyHands



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Bad Flirting, Crush at First Sight, Cunnilingus, Doctors & Physicians, Hospitals, M/M, Medical Procedures, Modern Fantasy, Older Man/Younger Man, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22177951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkStainsOnMyHands/pseuds/InkStainsOnMyHands
Summary: Dr. Anduin Wrynn tries not to make a fool of himself while treating his patient, High Overlord Varok Saurfang. He, of course, fails. [Modern Fantasy AU]
Relationships: Varok Saurfang/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 28
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I tried...
> 
> I'm going to post this before I become too embarrassed to. FYI, this is not beta-ed, so watch out for mistakes. 
> 
> Also, while it isn't explicitly stated, my Anduin is trans. This may come up if I continue this. 
> 
> (Psst, see if you can catch my vague _Scrubs_ reference.)

The cacophonous activity Anduin had come to associate with civilian hospitals was eerily absent from The Stormwind Keep Medical Unit. The young doctor’s hurried footsteps and the electric hum of fluorescent lights were the only sounds that echoed down the facility’s sterile hallways. And aside from the medical assistants at the front desk, all other staff remained unseen, likely hidden within examination rooms that were left unused on most days. 

Meanwhile, members of his father’s executive team loitered within various nooks and crannies as if they were decorative statues, watching, waiting. 

Anduin swallowed the lump in his throat. _That bad, huh._

After a small eternity, Anduin rounded the corner toward the fifth examination room. If he hadn’t been briefed on his way to the SKMU, the two _Kor'kron_ keeping vigil would have made his intended destination quite obvious. 

The black-suited Orcs remained at parade rest upon his approach. Regardless, Anduin thumbed the laminated badge clipped to his navy blue scrubs, if only for propriety’s sake. He was met with a dismissive sniff in his direction. 

Anduin pursed his lips and nodded. _Okay, then._ He knocked twice but didn’t wait for a response before entering the room. 

Varok Saurfang sat at the end of an “Orc-grade” stretcher. It creaked, straining beneath his massive body with every breath. The immense bulk of his haunches had to be squeezed between the bed’s safety railings to accommodate him. A pulse-ox monitor, clamped onto his index finger, appeared comically small even with its corrective adapter. Nothing about the scene gave any semblance of comfort, making the sour expression on Saurfang’s handsome visage all the more understandable. 

Anduin found the image quite endearing, like that of a wet, angry kitten. Although, he was quick to acknowledge his judgment could be clouded by Saurfang being _exactly_ his type: at least twice his age and capable of _demolishing_ him.

Anduin dropped the notion the moment it popped into his head. 

“High Overlord Saurfang, I’m Doctor -” Anduin began in heavily-accented Orcish as he closed the door behind him. 

“- I am well aware of who you are, _Prince_ Anduin,” Saurfang interrupted in eloquent Common, voice rough with obvious agitation.

Something about the way Anduin’s name rumbled off his tongue soothed any irritation his royal title would have otherwise caused. Anduin had little love for the moniker he was gifted. If formalities were necessary, he preferred the designation he had _earned_ with blood, sweat and many, _many_ tears. Out of Saurfang’s mouth, however, the term “prince” didn’t grate quite so much. 

“Just get on with it,” Saurfang growled. Then, seemingly remembering himself, he added in a much softer, more polite tone, “If you would please.” 

_Oh, boy._ Navigating around Saurfang’s attitude would not be a walk in the park. The line of Anduin’s mouth stretched into a strained, awkward smile. “Oh-kay.”

Steeling himself, Anduin took the four steps necessary to reach a rolling metal table situated beside the injured Orc. Fixed atop the first slat was every tool he could need. Anduin sent a grateful prayer to the orderly who must have prepared it; it wasn't difficult to imagine Saurfang losing his temper over Anduin trying to navigate an unfamiliar room for basic supplies. 

After pulling out a pair of disposable latex gloves from a box set out for him, Anduin murmured his rehearsed line, “I’m trained as a priest; do I have your consent to utilize holy magic to supplement my physical examination?” 

(In truth, his question was unnecessary; the paperwork had already been signed. It was by preference alone that Anduin asked before proceeding in the _very likely_ event his patient hadn’t read what they were agreeing to.)

Saurfang huffed but nodded all the same. 

“Okay, great,” Anduin chirped. _This might be easier than I thought._ He rolled his gloves onto his hands as he made a tight circle to meet Saurfang’s front. Checking the initial reading and finding it satisfactory, Anduin unclipped the pulse-ox monitor and set it aside. “So, I glanced at your chart. It said you have a gash on the back of your head from falling on some pavement?” 

“Is that a question?” Saurfang spat out as if he had just been accused of some crime. His blazing eyes pinned Anduin to where he stood.

With the heft of a lead weight, cold disappointment dropped into Anduin’s stomach. _Oh, well,_ _hoped too soon._

Anduin was accustomed to pricklier patients, but Saurfang reminded him of a caged predator ready to strike. To his shame, it wasn’t as off-putting as it should have been. An image of Saurfang using the bulging muscles beneath his designer dress shirt to manhandle Anduin flashed through his mind. _What’re you doing? He’s a patient!_ _By the Light, Anduin Wrynn!_

“Just double-checking,” Anduin soothed without missing a beat. He dipped into the Light flowing like a placid lake between his flesh and soul, bringing a remnant of it to the surface of his hands with practiced ease. “I’m sure you can appreciate a doctor who is thorough.” 

Anduin’s palms came to rest on either side of Saurfang’s unflinching face. He manipulated the Light through the other man’s body, gentle in his seeking of any and all damage. 

“Haven’t you already seen it?” Saurfang snapped. (How had the Light not granted him peace from his frustrations? Was Anduin losing his touch?) “I’m sure the ...incident is all over the news.”

_Oh, he’s not frustrated. He’s embarrassed. Ouch._

“Well, I don’t have a lot of time to devote to keeping up with current events while I’m on the clock,” Anduin murmured, assessing Saurfang’s bleeding wound with his magic. The injury was _just_ deep enough to require intervention. He also detected a mild concussion and an aggregated older injury, all of which could be treated with a short regime of over-the-counter medication. Overall, the moderate trauma was inconvenient, but not in need of immediate care. _Easy_. 

Returning to himself, Anduin snorted, “To be honest, when I got the call, I was trying to decide if I should spend the five minutes I had between patients fighting a vending machine for something to eat or rushing to the restroom.” 

A sound that could have been a chuckle escaped Saurfang’s thick throat. The corners of his lips curled into the smallest of smiles around his pierced tusks.

Unbidden, Anduin returned the good-natured expression. He made a valiant attempt to ignore the bubbling sensation that filled him and how his heart rammed against his ribs; it was in vain. In spite of his will, his thumbs shook against Saurfang’s cheeks. _Oh!_

Anduin released his patient as if Saurfang’s skin had burned his fingertips. Anduin’s cheeks felt far too hot. Could the other man _tell_?

To push the incident from his mind, Anduin fished for the smartphone in his front pocket. He opened SKMU’s medical charting app and selected Saurfang’s profile. For a long, stretched out moment, the click-clack of Anduin’s rushed typing filled the room. 

“This place didn’t seem quite so busy before we entered,” Saurfang commented. 

Anduin tilted his head away from his device, causing his blonde bangs to curtain over his eyes. Out of instinct, he blew them from his face. It took only a moment to internally cringe at his added unprofessionalism. _What is wrong with me?_

Saurfang let out a small breath. His face gentled further, revealing a wealth of kindness beneath his veteran warrior’s veneer. 

“U-Uh yeah,” Anduin stammered. “I normally intern at Stormwind General. I was called in as backup due to the -uh - let’s say ‘sudden influx of patients.’” 

Saurfang’s expression shifted several times before it settled into something resembling amusement. “Ah, I see. Leave the Orc to the rookie, then?” 

Pocketing his phone, Anduin resisted the urge to sigh. As an intern employed by a teaching hospital, Anduin was well acquainted with the type of doubt patients exhibited upon hearing his official position (or seeing his youthful complexion). When faced with this uncertainty, he practiced an art taught to him by the more experienced residents in his unit: the false bravado. 

Gathering all of the swagger he possessed, Anduin sauntered over to Saurfang’s side. “I’ll let you in on a secret. My dad called me in on this specifically because I’m the best at what I do,” he half-lied. His father called him in because he was the only doctor within twenty miles that had the necessary security clearance and practicing privileges to attend to Saurfang.“He wasn’t about to risk a diplomatic disaster by hiring someone he didn’t have complete faith in.”

Saurfang let out a gruff laugh. “I should be so lucky.” 

Anduin grinned; the old Orc had a sense of humor after all. “Damn right. Now, normally, you would need stitches for that gash. But, I can heal it pretty quickly with my prayers. Plus, they’d also take care of your concussion and the aggravated muscles in your neck. Though, the downside is you won’t get a cool scar out of the whole ordeal.” 

Saurfang waved him off. “No need to waste your magic. Stitch me.” 

Anduin’s eyebrow rose. “You sure?” 

The smirk Saurfang sent Anduin set his belly aflame. “What? Not so confident without your spellwork, hmm?” 

Anduin huffed, feeling theatrical. “I’ll have you know I can suture most surgeons under the table,” he shot back without any real venom. He tapped on Saurfang’s meaty shoulder. “Bend forward.” 

Saurfang did as was commanded, revealing the stained bandage plastered between the start of his silver braids. 

Anduin peeled back the dressing at a slow, deliberate pace. To his good fortune, it gave way without much issue; he would have hated to cause any more discomfort by pulling out hair. 

Anduin reached for a clean gauze pad and alcohol wipe from the tool table. Using the softest touch he could muster, Anduin cleaned out the gash. As was suspected, the continued bleeding was caused by the location of the wound rather than its severity. He determined his initial assessment had been correct; it would only need a few stitches at most. Had it not been for how the skin was raised, it might have even been a good candidate for glue. 

Anduin grabbed the spray bottle of numbing solution on the tool table. Before he could open his mouth to explain the first step of Saurfang’s treatment, the Orc asked, “What is that?” 

“Local anesthetic,” Anduin explained. “It’ll numb you so you don’t feel me sewing you back together.”

Saurfang guffawed, as if tickled by the existence of such a thing. “Humans always feel the need to mask any little discomfort, don’t they?” 

Anduin lifted _both_ his eyebrows. His lips thinned. “Suffering needlessly isn’t really a human trait, no,” he replied smoothly. After a lack of response, he continued, “So, ‘yay’ or ‘nay’ on the numbing spray?” For emphasis, he shook the bottle next to Saurfang’s ear. 

“I’d like not to waste any more time,” Saurfang muttered. 

Anduin found causing pain to be distasteful. The idea of threading a needle, however small, through nerve-active flesh repulsed him. But part of his oath as a doctor was to respect the wishes of his patient, no matter how foolish they were. “Got it. One badass scar coming up,” he sighed, setting the numbing solution back down onto the table. 

The process of suturing Saurfang was relatively painless - for Anduin at least. To Saurfang’s credit, he didn’t flinch or twitch in discomfort at all, allowing Anduin to apply the thread with perfect tension. It was impressive considering some of his experiences with patients who _were_ medicated. By the time he tied off the last knot, Saurfang did little more than yawn into his palm at one point. 

“Okay,” Anduin started while applying a clean bandage over his work. “I’m going to get your discharge notes. It’ll have instructions on how to take care of my handy work. I’m also having the pharmacy send over a muscle relaxer and acetaminophen for your other injuries.” 

“Thank you, but the medication will not be necessary,” Saurfang replied. 

Anduin let out a breath through his nose in a vain attempt to expel his growing frustration. He whirled around to face Saurfang, tough, come-to-the-Light expression at the ready. “With all due respect High Overlord, stitches are one thing, but a stiff neck and concussion could incapacitate you for days.” 

Saurfang’s eyes narrowed at Anduin, meeting his challenge head on. “Doubtful. I’m in immense pain all the time, and I push through it,” he replied. His large hands clenched into fists. “As difficult as it may be for a _human_ to understand, my pain has been an invisible limb for longer than you have been alive. I would feel unlike myself by amputating it.” 

Anduin paused, struck by the familiar sentiment. It was as if his own words, written years ago for a college assignment, were spoken back to him: _“Pain is a part of my story. It is my guide, shaping not only how I function, but how I would practice medicine. I wouldn’t be who I am today without it.”_

Anduin chewed on his bottom lip. Then, he replied, “I understand the concept better than you think.” 

Curiosity appeared to soften Saurfang’s gaze. 

Anduin patted his aching thigh. “I’ve suffered from chronic pain since the incident with - well, anyway, I know what it’s like to not feel like yourself when it’s gone.” He bobbed his head to the side. “That being said, on the really bad days, I still treat my leg so I can function at my best. I’ve learned that the energy you spend trying to push through your suffering is the energy you’re not using for something more productive - like say, meeting with my father?” 

Saurfang remained wordless, peering away from his younger counterpart. 

Anduin swallowed. He considered his next tactic for a heartbeat and decided to gamble on it. There was nothing to lose, after all. “At least, take the meds to your hotel and think about using them? For me?” he pressed. 

Saurfang inhaled a deep gulp of air. For an entire minute, a tense silence filled the space between them, suffocating Anduin. Then, Saurfang murmured, “I’ll...think about it. For you.” 

Those words shouldn’t have set Anduin’s heart fluttering as they did. His world shouldn’t have felt a mile below his feet as it did. Yet, there he was, clutching at his chest on cloud nine. 

Anduin schooled his features to remain neutral despite the dopey smile threatening to bloom on his face. Though there was little chance Saurfang returned any sort of _amorous_ affection for him, he was flattered by his sentiment all the same. Anduin would take any win that was offered. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

Anduin floated out of the room, glided down the hallway and approached the front (and only) station. There, all alone, stood a dwarven woman wearing an adorable pair of lion print scrubs. ( _I gotta buy me some of those._ ) Upon closer inspection, Anduin recognized her as the same person who had made passive aggressive comments at his request for temporary credentials to their network. Her scowl suggested her mood had not improved since then. 

A lump settled in Anduin’s throat. He swallowed it down. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Anduin started out meek and with the most charming smile he could muster. “Could you print out the discharge papers for room five, please?” 

The receptionist? Nurse? PA? (Where is her name tag?) glared over the rim of her thick glasses. “You already sent the request. It’s on the printer.” She pointed to the pile of papers sitting face-down on the printer’s tray between them. 

“I don’t think I did,” Anduin replied, bemused. Was it possible he accidentally sent Saurfang’s chart to the printer? “Are you sure they’re for room five?” 

The dwarf sighed and rolled her eyes. “Listen, everyone’s already left wi’ their discharge papers,” she grumbled. _And you’re the last one here, keeping me passed my sixteen-hour shift_ , went unsaid. 

“Message received,” Anduin muttered under his breath. He gathered the aforementioned stack of papers and raced back to Saurfang, _lest she bite my head off._

Just as he rushed into the fifth examination room, Anduin read the name at the top of the first page to assuage his lingering fears that a mistake had been made. It was Mathias Shaw’s. 

_Damnit!_ Anduin closed his eyes and suppressed a groan. Without taking his eyes off the forms in his hands, Anduin admitted to his dressing patient, “Sorry, I have to go back. I grabbed the wrong paperwork.” 

Anduin attempted to pivot gracefully on his heel, as he had done hundreds of times that day. In that instant, a sharp pain burned up his bad leg. A strangled yelp escaped his mouth. His knee buckled under him. 

Anduin staggered forward. He winced in preparation for a painful impact on the linoleum. 

No such collision took place. Instead, his cheek met the surface of something hard but pleasantly fleshy, stopping his abrupt descent to the ground. Under his pits, a pair of rock-solid arms engulfed him. 

Through his bangs, Anduin peered up. Saurfang’s features, contorted in concern, met his questing gaze. Anduin also discovered that, out of instinct, he had reached out to grasp at Saurfang’s thick upper arms for balance. 

Anduin’s insides melted into the pit of his stomach, his spine tingled with sensation, and his hands itched to _touch_. At the same time, Saurfang’s pythonesque hold constricted around his back, steadying him on his feet and pressing their chests even closer together. 

“T-thanks,” Anduin gasped out, burning lungs unable pull in enough oxygen. His heart threatening to burst through his rib cage. “I-I mean, sorry, my leg -” 

“No need to apologize,” Saurfang croaked. “I’m just glad I caught you in time.” Haltingly, he pulled away from the young doctor. His large hands travelled to Anduin’s ribs, as if afraid he would collapse without his continued support. 

Anduin’s brain stalled. He reached for words, any words, but they tumbled from his tongue as incomprehensible high-pitched sounds. After several failed attempts at functioning, the doctor nodded and fled the room, narrowly escaping the gravity of Saurfang’s gentle touch. 

* * *

By the Light’s good humor, Anduin’s attending at SKMU had been sympathetic towards his plight. With a knowing smile, he offered to take over Anduin’s discharge duties so the younger man could hide in his car and lick his wounds.

Anduin’s gratitude had a sour edge to it. In a normal emergency room, a reprieve in the parking lot would be impossible - but it would be just as unnecessary. If he embarrassed himself in front of a patient, that was fine. Within three minutes, he would be on the next task, incident buried beneath a mountain of medical minutiae at the forefront of his consciousness. 

There were no such distractions at SKMU. By its definition, the facility only saw the occasional politician or dignitary for non-emergency matters. On the rare instance Anduin oversaw a visitor, his entire focus could only be on his prior interactions. And in this case, they were _mortifying_ . Worse yet, given his political position, it was likely Anduin would see Varok Saurfang again very _soon_. 

_Okay! Enough! Gotta think about something else._

Anduin turned on his radio, only for a news broadcaster to report on how a backfiring motorcycle caused a panicked stampede outside of Stormwind Keep, minorly injuring a few dozen people. _So, that’s how Varok got pushed to the ground._

Anduin shook his head. _Okay. That didn’t work._

Music perhaps? Plugging his USB cord into his smartphone, Anduin navigated to his favorite music app on the entertainment console of his car. Scrolling, his lips came to a pout. His usual playlists didn’t appeal to his mood; metal and dubstep would increase his anxiety while alternative and indie rock would only depress him further. 

Without much recourse, Anduin selected an auto-generated pop playlist. _Maybe something peppy will help?_

The beat at the beginning of the first song sounded quite catchy. Anduin could bob his head along well enough.

_“I wanna touch on you_

_You see me in my room_

_Wish you were here right now_

_All of the things I'd do_

_I wanna get freaky on camera_

_I love when we get freaky on camera…”_

Anduin groaned, his mind reeling with every explicit fantasy he had suppressed. It was as if a dam in his brain had been broken, releasing a flood of erotic images into his thoughts. Within his imagination, Varok took him in every way imaginable: on silk sheets, against the wall outside the keep, in the shower, so on and so on. An incessant and uncomfortable warmth pooled between his legs. 

_Ugh! Why does the universe hate me?_

* * *

After parking his car in the garage beneath his townhouse, Anduin attempted to gather his things in the silence that had followed him home. The phone in his hand cut through the quiet by vibrating in a manner that indicated an incoming text. _Great._ His father must have been made aware of his transgressions and hoped to admonish him (or praise him, depending on his mood towards the Horde representative.) 

Glancing down, Anduin did not find the notification he expected. Instead, he discovered a preview for a message from an unfamiliar number. The beginning of the text appeared to be that of an address that conjured some faint recognition. Intrigued, he thumbed open his messaging app.

Anduin’s curiosity was rewarded with a request for the young doctor to arrive at the specified location at nine o’clock that evening. 

_What?_

_Wait…_

Anduin knew the address! It was that of _The Blue Recluse_ , one of the most opulent hotels in the city. Anduin often had reason to visit, as the royal family preferred to accommodate their guests there when flexing the capital. 

Could that mean…? 

A hurried search for the origin of the mysterious number's area code resulted in numerous entries for Orgrimmar. 

Oh. _Oh…_

If fortune continued to smile upon Anduin, he had quite the evening ahead of him.


	2. Bonus Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the LionFang discord server, I mustered up the courage to post this. It includes some headcanons I have for this universe that I wasn't able to include in the first part. 
> 
> Please note, I did add more tags to this fic!

“Jab! Cross! Hook! Cross!” Genn barked. 

Anduin punched out the prescribed combination on Genn’s boxing pads with near expert fluidity. As was tradition for members of the Wrynn clan, Anduin practiced hand-to-hand combat to a religious degree - if a tad reluctantly. The custom was a carryover from a time when political conflicts were resolved with armor and swords instead of economic sanctions and spiteful jabs over the internet. It wasn’t Anduin’s favorite activity, but it had the benefit of counteracting his frequent diet of sugary coffee and cheap hospital pastries. 

“Roll!” 

Despite his sore haunches, Anduin followed the command to perfection, bobbing and weaving out of the way of an incoming arm with the grace of a dancer. Still, the maneuver wasn’t quite good enough for Genn if his growl to “keep his eyes up” was any indication. 

“I am,” Anduin argued behind his navy gloves, voice as rough as gravel. Wincing, he sprung back into his fighter stance only to follow Genn as he circled him. After coming to a pause, Anduin struck, resuming his combination. 

“Are you sure you’re not sick?” Tess’ voice came from the free weight area of Stormwind Keep’s gym. Anduin didn’t need to glance at her to  _ know  _ she was grimacing. The expression had been a fixture on her visage since he had opened his mouth that morning. 

Before Anduin could reassure his audience, for the hundredth time, that he was not contagious, Genn replied in his stead. “He’s already said as much. Now, less talking, more dumbbell curls, young lady.” 

Tess made a strained sound. “I don’t know. He’s slower than usual, too.” 

From its entrance, a musical laugh echoed throughout the private gym, announcing yet another presence. “Of course he is!” a familiar feminine voice chimed in. “How’s he expected to work out efficiently with nothing to get his blood pumping?” 

_ Ah _ ,  _ Valeera _ . Anduin was wondering when his pseudo older sister would arrive. He cringed, preparing for the obscene volume of audio he was sure to endure. 

No later had the thought been conjured when broken distorted voices filtered through the speakers mounted on each corner of the gym. A simple but catchy beat joined them a few moments later, urging its listeners to move along to its electronic sway. To the song’s credit, Anduin’s heels bounced with more gusto than they had a moment prior. 

In truth, the track was a favorite of Anduin’s. For all his worry his brain would rattle with the force of Valeera’s impromptu dj-ing, it did motivate his body - as was predicted. The  _ thuds _ against Genn’s paddings were timed with the rapidly pulsating music, and the feedback reverberating back into his knuckles was a touch more satisfying. 

Genn didn’t seem to share Anduin’s appreciation; his features twisted further and further into a scowl with each second that passed. It wasn’t long before he snapped, “If you’re going to put on a racket, could it at least be better than this insufferable noise!” 

The transition was immediate, the next song already queued for the eventuality that Genn would snub Valeera’s first choice. A hip-hop beat began, one Anduin knew all too well given how often it blasted from Valeera’s tiny sports car. His lips curled over his teeth in an amused grin. Genn gave a pronounced sigh. 

Riling up Genn was one of Anduin’s favorite pastimes. As such, when the artist started so did he, compelled to rap along beneath his breath as he continued maneuvering, if only to annoy his trainer,  _ “Said she tired of lil' money, need a big boy. Pull up twenty-inch blades like I'm Lil' Troy. _ ” 

Genn rolled his eyes, but Andiun did not miss the tiniest smirk of delight pulling at the corners of his mouth.“It’s obvious I’m not working you hard enough if you can still talk,” he remarked. “We’ll go faster, and if you can’t keep up, that’ll be twenty burpees at the end of our rotation.” 

The threat of those dreaded burpees only encouraged Anduin. Genn switched up his commands with little warning, calling for rapid-fire hooks and uppercuts that were designed to wear the boy’s endurance down. Regardless, Anduin met his pace, all while continuing his number in a show of defiance,  _ “You was talkin' shit in the beginning, back when I was feelin' more forgivin'. I know it piss you off to see me winnin'. See the igloo in my mouth when I be grinnin'.”  _

(Meanwhile, Anduin could hear Valeera and Tess attempt to “hype him up” with well-timed hoots and hollers of encouragement. The praise pleased the part of himself that always sought to serve others.) 

By the time a buzzing emanated from the television installed on the wall beside them, signifying the end of their rotation, Anduin’s arms and legs felt as if they were caught in ablaze. His elation at meeting Genn’s challenge, however, was a balm against the pain. Anduin continued gesturing, bouncing, and singing, “ _ Used to have a lot, but I got more now! Made another hit 'cause I got bored now! Always goin' for it, never punt fourth down! Last call, Hail Mary, Prescott touchdown, ay! _ ” 

Unexpectedly, the gym fell into momentary silence. A gruff chuckle proceeded it. “Very impressive.” 

Anduin shivered. Varok’s distinct rumbling summoned wonderful memories of erotic sweet-nothings whispered in his ear as masterful ministrations led his body to tremble. In an instant, he turned on his heel, impatient in his desire to come face-to-face with the man who had made him scream his voice hoarse in pleasure the night before. 

To Anduin’s horror, standing beside his new lover was his father. The image was akin to a splash of cold water thrown over his entire body. 

Disappointment soured Anduin’s mood, and for the briefest of moments, he felt guilty for that shift in emotion. Varian was his  _ father _ , for Light’s sake! In any case, it wasn’t as if Anduin could dash off into Varok’s arms while members of his closest circle watched. Furthermore, stolen passion between dusk and dawn aside, Varok was in Stormwind on  _ business _ , not to seek him out. 

Then, Anduin took note of the grimace upon Varian’s scarred visage that was aimed right at him. Well, shame be damned. It seemed as though he would not appreciate his father’s presence regardless of Varok’s attendance.  _ By the Light, what did I do now?  _

To quell the anger Varian carried for him, Anduin slipped into the role of a seasoned politician, his father’s favorite persona. Straightening his spine and squaring his shoulders, he extricated his hands from his boxing gloves before approaching the two men. He presented his open palm, wrapped in protective nylon, to Varok. “High Overlord, please forgive my lack of sportsmanship. I tend to get carried away on adrenaline.” 

As they shook hands, Anduin attempted to convey the awkwardness of the situation with his eyes, silently pleading for Varok’s understanding. In turn, Varok’s amber gaze softened in what Anduin hoped was comprehension. 

“I believe confidence is a good trait for healers to have,” Varok replied while releasing the boy’s hand. 

Anduin couldn’t have expected a better, more diplomatic response. Only polite sensibility kept him from breathing out a sigh of relief. 

“Son,” Varian interjected. “Why don’t you go finish your workout while Genn shows our guest around the studio?” 

It wasn’t a request. 

Genn nodded towards the speed bag. Anduin had little choice but to drop his gloves, hop to the speed bag’s platform, and begin hitting at random in a show of continued training. 

The time between the start of Anduin’s playact and Varian joining his side was, more than likely, meant to convey nonchalance to any onlookers. It only boded worse for the prince. 

“¿Haces esto a propósito? Necesitas atención? Hmm? Ya no eres un niño pequeño, Anduin,” Varian hissed in an off-shoot of Common. 

Typically, Anduin appreciated the use of “their” language. There was a childlike enjoyment in exchanging words with his father in a dialect unique to the ancient houses of Stormwind, as if they were speaking in code. And as a fair-skinned blonde, the lexicon tied him to his ancestors, the original olive-toned inhabitants of the Southern Eastern Kingdoms, in a way his features could not. However, Anduin had little love for the tongue when it was used to scold him in public. 

“¿Todo esto porque estaba cantando?” Anduin hissed back. 

Varian shot him a withering look. “Yo sé que fuiste a la _ Blue Recluse _ .” 

_ Shit! _

“No pasó nada -” 

“No me digas que no pasó nada. Apenas puedes moverte o hablar,” Varian sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. “De todas las noches tenías que encontrarte con alguien cuando Saurfang estaba allí. ¿Y si te hubiera visto con un chico extraño?” 

_ Thank the Light! He doesn’t know! He doesn’t know! He doesn’t know!  _ Anduin was far too relieved to be insulted over the implication that he would be seen as a whore in the presence of another man. 

Varian crossed his arms over his chest. “Y tienes suerte SI:7 te vio en lugar de algún tabloide. Debes tener más cuidado, especialmente cuando la Horda está aquí. No podemos permitirnos ninguna debilidad. Understood?” 

Anduin couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth. All of his energy was directed to keeping himself upright on wobbling legs. Instead, he nodded. 

Varian mimicked the action. “Good talk.”

* * *

Anduin gasped when the tip of Varok’s tongue met his throbbing clit. Instinct urged him to close his legs, to scoot away from the overwhelming electrical bliss that shot up his spine, but Varok’s large hands held him in place with seemingly little effort. Liquid lust pooled in his belly at the notion; it turned Anduin on to be this helpless against the Orc as he moved to explore his depths so adeptly. 

Just as Anduin’s fortitude for this beautiful torture had reached its limits, Varok lapped again at the bundle of nerves that made Anduin jolt and curl his toes. A tiny cry escaped Anduin’s panting mouth. His fingers gripped at the pillow beside his thrashing head. 

_ By the Light! How was Varok so good at this? _

Varok pulled away, resting his cheek against Anduin’s trembling thigh. A thick finger found its way into Anduin’s slick channel while Varok murmured into his skin, “You taste so good, little lion.” 

The praise, more than the finger, dragged a whimper from Anduin’s heaving lungs. Then, the appendage crooked, seeking and discovering the spot inside the young man that ignited stars within his body. The moan Anduin released was downright filthy. 

It didn’t take long for Anduin to find a climax amidst being fucked by Varok’s finger as his clit was devoured once more. That was of no surprise considering how easily he orgasmed the previous evening. No, the shock came from the torrent of warm wetness that gushed from him, soaking Varok’s lips, chin and the hotel sheets beneath him. 

_ Light, I’ve never done that before. _

Anduin attempted to gather the energy for some semblance of shame over the situation. Yet, the way Varok gazed up at him with naked hunger, as he propped his chin over his mound, abated any embarrassment Anduin should have had.  _ I’ll think of it as payback for marking my face yesterday _ , Anduin thought with a satisfied grin. 

To Anduin’s bemusement, and disappointment, Varok didn’t reach for the condoms in the bedside drawer. Instead, after wiping off the slick from his face, he kissed the flesh of Anduin’s hips, belly, chest before sliding off the bed with far more poise than should be possible for an Orc.

“Where are you going?” Anduin giggled. 

Varok smirked in Anduin’s direction; dark promise burned in his expression. Seemingly satisfied by Anduin squirming under his attention, Varok bent forward to retrieve his clothes from the floor. “I have a dinner meeting with your father. But you’re more than welcome to stay here until I return.” 

Anduin should hope so. Once Varok collected the rest of his outfit, Anduin’s eyes traced over the sharp lines that made up Varok’s pectorals, torso, abdominals and thighs. Between those glorious starts to his legs, a thick, hard cock hung, drooping slightly under its own tremendous heft. Oh, yes, he had no intention of leaving Varok’s hotel room un-fucked and dissatisfied. 

“I’ll be waiting,” Anduin purred, electing to pull the hotel comforter over his naked body rather than dressing. 

Varok released a stuttering breath through his nose and padded towards the connected ensuite without another word. 

A sudden roar of water hitting tiles echoed from the bathroom minutes later. It sounded heavenly! Anduin was tempted to join Varok under the shower’s warm spray, if just to clean himself off for the next round later that night. But a single vibration from his phone saved Varok from having to share the stall for at least a few minutes. With a grin, Anduin groped for his device on the nightstand. 

Smartphone in hand, Anduin peeked at its lock screen more out of curiosity than concern, only to find a notification for a text from his father. The green box shone like a beacon leading his soul straight to hell. His stomach dropped, and he sat straight up. 

No way! Anduin had been so careful, employing all the techniques he had learned from spymasters over the years to sneak into Varok’s room with no witnesses. There was zero chance his father knew where he was. Yet, the message was on his phone, plain as the scrunched-up nose on his face. 

Anduin suppressed the panicked breaths that screamed for release from his chest. There was no use in whipping himself into a frenzy! He just had to face the consequences of his choices. And, in truth, the amazing time he had spent with Varok made the inevitable worth it. 

Anduin opened his text messaging app with a thumb across his screen. 

_ We will be having dinner with Lord Saurfang. You have an hour to get ready. Meet us at...  _

Oh. Oh no. Oh, Light. This was somehow  _ worse _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://faequill.tumblr.com/).  
> Come talk to me about Wow, Daredevil (comic or mcu), or BFU. 
> 
> If you liked this, please leave a kudos or comment! It definitely encourages me to continue.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://faequill.tumblr.com/).  
> Come talk to me about Wow, Daredevil (comic or mcu), or BFU. 
> 
> If you liked this, please leave a kudos or comment! It definitely encourages me to continue.


End file.
